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Be real, conscious rap failed us And in saying that You know, welcome to my rap jam The top-hatted Abrahams are shoveling the raisin bran In eyeballs their bi-laws are leaping off the laser scan Onto your genotype telling you to deepthroat that pipe If you don't do it well These hoes might The red carpenter's quota fills the deficit in motor skills Of on-lookers raw sugars register at overkill Within your colon wall so a candied bowling ball You squeeze out at the open call But what if you could Inundate the open hearing with your shrewd barbs That perforates the sloganeering on the cue cards Would you prize that fine cut or just apply blush As besquelched sea-kelp nibbling on pie crust The job offers at Albany's count Dracula And calorie-count spatula kitchen staff Are on the lithograph Of your Calvin Kline alkaline-enriched gonads Should I kiss your ass or drown you In the saffron soy dip Letras de cancionesBut my Zaxxon joy stick pokes at my Glitter spackled tight jump suit Mr. Applewhite grunt pukes From the candle light-drunk seldom sung tooth But you're the fresh faced unknown With sophomoric gags and washboard abs Finding cinaplex waste blood stones Can I be OG Mud Bone? Go free and unplug the phone Nannies or swamis undefeated Screaming "Pansy commies! Love it or leave it" Or pumping antibodies in the VP's cleavage They split it, split it... Nannies or swamis undefeated Screaming "Pansy commies! Love it or leave it" Or pumping antibodies in the VP's cleavage They split it, split it... Cool points trump those DIY Numerics Be yourself but I'm too embarrassed You got to be you So that famed crook playbook and diary diarrhea split seconds Split seconds, they split seconds, split seconds... The 1-800 dollar guilt trip Stamped on my African name book Proves that behind the cumulus blue There's a humilicious stew as Dane Cook's table reads, so I yank butch's anal beads Out of the clenched bum of PG rated test runs Stuffing YouTube viewership up deviated septum's Between two choose your pick: Rule Zimbabwe or Improved computer chips become your new Yahweh Boo-hoo loser bitch your dopes in the blood and stole Because most rap careers mirror stints as drug mules But you are the pickaninny, blackfaced Ren & Stimpy Our on-screen time is split 50-50 But I've only drawn guns On construction paper with the pastel sticks And I'm a left of center loyalist Who's selling bean pies with a bad sales pitch This sex offender's foil fixed in utero On my own dumb ass self Yeah I pimp super ho Whom is me They liken Driver to Fish Bone Have fire and brimstone misers disowned But I'm not sure Y'all are too NAACP or NWA on GP But I straddle the fence every nanosec Canceled checks line the uteral wall of my music hall Cool points trump those DIY numerics Be yourself, but I'm too embarrassed You got to be you So that famed crook playbook and diary diarrhea split seconds Split seconds, they split seconds, split seconds... From Letras Mania